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A self-indulgent, faux-woke mashup of noir crime, black comedy, and Tarantino-esque ultraviolence. Some great performances, including a spectacular feature debut from Cynthia Erivo; shame they’re so wasted.
Have you been paying attention to what the movies have been saying — what the movies have really been saying — all summer? Here’s a refresher.
This actually sounds like what some complainers here think my reviews should sound like.
The original ending, much of which was apparently actually shot, is a lot darker and much closer in tone to the book…
Has no guts of any kind: it has absolutely nothing to say, and it takes a long, dull, circuitous route to get to that nothing.
I love how it puts you right in the middle of the action, puts you right there with Brad Pitt in the helicopter gazing out over the zombie apocalypse. Brilliant.
Wait. Really? Zombies on a plane?
Let’s get our geek on for the coming year!
This appears to bear little resemblance to Max Brooks’ novel. Which sucks for us.
Links my followers on Facebook, Twitter, and Google+ saw today…
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